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#poetic license
poeticlicense12345 · 2 months
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Poruka
Uvijek ću biti usamljen.
Poput stijene od koje se valovi odbijaju,
Ljudi će se od mene odbijati.
Bit ću tek jedan naslonjač
Na kojem se duše odmaraju,
A onda ponovo odlaze ka svome putu.
Uvijek ću biti ostavljen i odbačen,
Neshvaćen,
Jer ono što čini mene,
Neće shvatiti dok sam živ.
Poput vjetra koji prolazi pored njih,
Oni će prolaziti pored mene.
Govorit ću im o prostranstvima
Koja se nalaze u nama,
No, oni će se okrenuti
I otići svojim putem.
Kuda jure svi ti ljudi?
Zar ne znaju da brzina odnosi život
Kao što vjetar odnosi prašinu?
Znam da riječi nisu jedine stvari
Ovog napornog života,
Ali ne mogu živjeti samo od kruha.
Znam, umrijet ću.
Moram govoriti i nešto reći
Sebi i ovome svijetu
Koji odlazi bez pozdrava.
14.11.1999.
text author: Klaun Van Trenda
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uschi-the-listener · 4 months
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My friends are my friends
And i love them
Though all my friends
Are
Imaginary
I have seen pictures
A few voices i have heard
But no scent
No corporeal sensations
Have emerged between us
I suppose i must also be imaginary
It's okay
They exist
And that is
Usually
Enough
But a hug is a hug
We can eat and drink together
But we can't hold hands
Catch each other before we fall
Nudge
Slap
Tickle
Wipe the tears away
What we have is good
What we have not
Is nearly infinite
.
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yossaplain-truther · 1 year
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many thoughts not a single one of them helpful
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The Cunning Language
Lips on lips of softest sweetness all day of every day the red painted face, dainty strawberry curves, speak to me in untravelled tongues; desire on fire for pale lips to touch and a tongue to speak of flicking the switch; but I don’t speak the cunning language.
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ashenmind · 3 months
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wahh and udoalg both kinda hinge on reimu getting double teamed by horny chicks huh?
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photosbyrocco · 2 years
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Tardy for the Card Fabrication Party
by Rocco
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hplovecraftmuseum · 1 year
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Lovecraft often used terms like 'ancient' to discribe towns or structures in his stories. To a European calling anything 'ancient' that had been built as recently as the 1600s is just comical. For Lovecraft time as a dimension was purely relative. In his letters HPL stated that he felt like a very old person since he was a teenager! In letters he would refer to his aunts as his 'daughters'. Lovecraft often made references to many things with a considerable bit of 'poetic license'. He once claimed that he had created a geographic map of Arkham Mass. One might have expected to see a rendering of Arkham in relation to its imaginary location within the state of Massachusetts. Instead the drawing was a very basic 'street map!' Instead of specifically using the term lightning in one story he instead mentions 'ribbons of light'. Some readers and literary critics have pointed out Lovecraft's frequent use of terms like 'indiscribable' in his tales. But, Lovecraft's characters may be using the term not because they lacked the capacity to discribe the scene or monster, but rather that doing so might not have been 'proper' for an individual of refined tastes or upbringing. Reading Lovecraft takes not only a certain advanced knowledge of the English language, but a certain amount of imagination to interpret some of the intentionally nebulous terms he used. (Exhibit 305)
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alathelios · 24 days
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Aquela sensação de ler um poema e se sentir "uau", enquanto a pessoa do seu lado tá confusa se perguntando o que uma coisa tem a ver com a outra.
-T
~aff, como assim tem gente que não entende licença poética 😔
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kwasibility · 5 months
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wonder, is there anything more harmful to the existence of human beings than poetry.
We'd do well issuing poetic license restricting usage not limited to nouns and verbs.
~Kwasibility
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poeticlicense12345 · 1 month
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odreži svoje šake jer ti ne služe!
poezija se ne piše glavom,
na glavi se nosi frizura!
poezija se piše prstima
jer ono što su prsti radili, sudbina će biti.
text author: Klaun Van Trenda
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smileygirl95 · 10 months
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For this assignment, the poem I choose to write about is titled “Sunflower” written by Frank Steele in 2001. The poem is not long and is not too difficult to understand. The synopsis of the poem “Sunflower” is the poet's observation of the growth of a sunflower. About how a sunflower, once a seed planted in the dark ground, grew out of the dirt, past the tall grass, and into the sky. The center of the poem is the sunflower and what it represents. The sunflower standing tall and facing the sky is a symbol to me of strength and positivity. That even though the sunflower is now tall and looking up at the sky it still battles with the “green darkness beneath.” The “green darkness beneath" is a symbol for negativity. “The spindly leg, hairy, fending off tall” is a representation of the sunflower and its stem fighting the negativity so showing strength in the sunflower's battles. A metaphor found described in the poem to what I believe, is a sign of positivity. As follows “I imagine the long climb out of the dark beyond morning glories, day lilies, four o’clocks up there to dream she keeps lifting, where it’s noon all day” is that metaphor for positivity. That line translates to all the battles the sunflower conquered while growing to now be standing tall and strong in the light of positivity. When I read this poem, it eloquently showed me an image of what it speaks about that can be read as an organic narrative. It is a straight to the point poem that to me has a lot of meaning.  
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preacherpollard · 1 year
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Should You Choose "The Chosen"?
Brent Pollard Paul immediately addresses Timothy, his young son in the faith, with a warning about the Judaizers (1 Timothy 1.3–7). If you look closely at verse seven, you’ll notice that Paul says those who want to teach the Law have no idea what they’re saying. These Judaizers may wish to appear knowledgeable, but their ignorance renders them unqualified to instruct. 1 Timothy 1.7 cautions…
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vastveridian · 1 year
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poetic license lets me drive on both sides of the mf road at the same time
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esstrauss · 1 year
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“I Sit” (A Pastoral Poem)
I sit in a Long Island Victorian mansion and cannot feel my calloused, tired, cold, unsteady hands
I sit in the twenty year old dining room chair
I sit in front of a fifty year old Americana writing desk
I sit with too many thoughts for a crabby patty
I sit with anxiety moving the keys on my laptop
I sit with patterns and mistakes
I sit with consumption that I cannot read anyones mind but my own
I sit looking outside the white four glass window seeing myself in the bare trees
I sit knowing the leaves want to present; never easy
I sit remembering how much joy instantly bring to my face when in full bloom
I sit and fantasize about the green, red, and yellows leaves and how my sadness escapes into them
I sit at this bureau to make money and work through my life; work
I sit and wish I could still hear the ocean on cool spring days like today
I sit but cannot make out the sound’s voice as my music drowns her out
I sit to think about control and power and how these are patterns and mistakes; their abuse
I sit in suburbia longing for concrete jungles
I sit in gratitude I can be a city and country mouse in brownstones & Victorian Americana mansions
I sit not knowing how my future will play out
I sit hopeful that I will get to swim in calmer waters with the Sound’s songs.
©️Elizabeth Sophia Strauss 4.11.2023
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clydeandy · 1 year
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i’ve got a chip on my shoulder the size of the Grand Canyon and a hole in my heart that could split the moon in half
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granonine · 1 year
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Sunday Morning Coffee: I'm Late! I'm Late!
Goodness! The morning flew by, and I can’t believe it’s almost 3:30 p.m. I’m home today, still nursing a case of mono. I don’t feel sick. Just incredibly tired, like someone pulled a plug and all my energy has drained out. I folded a load of clothes that Terry brought up last night, and just doing that small chore took every bit of energy I had. I’m not enjoying this at all. A friend loaned me…
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